


Thought of You

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Sappy, Short, Smooching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2017-12-20 08:16:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Let's take a break, shall we? Pause reality for a while and just remember these moments. (A series of, usually short, fluff writings focused around F!Hawke and Fenris.) Originally posted on FanFiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thought of You

Fenris walked through Hightown, the afternoon sun bathing the fancy buildings and fancy people in a warm glow. He glanced at the papers in his hand again.

"Tch." He made the sound as he remembered the irritating dwarf and sighed in frustration.

...

"Hey, Elf! Can you give these documents to Hawke?" Varric said conversationally, holding out a wad of files. Fenris was about to leave The Hanged Man when the dwarf propositioned him. He looked around the tavern, as if the dwarf had been talking to someone else, then back at Varric's outstretched hand.

"Wasn't Hawke just here? Why didn't you give them to her then?" He objected grumpily. Varric made a 'pfft' noise with his lips before answering.

"Because, these are Kirkwall documents, not stories, unfortunately, and I was helping her fill them out."

"By forging her signature, you mean?" He interrupted, but Varric ignored him.

"I noticed she looked wrecked so I told her to go home, and that I'd get someone to drop them off at her place."

Fenris sighed and took the pile, held together by two lengths of leather rope.

"Fine. Although I'm certain you have a dozen others who could do this." He growled, but Varric merely smiled smugly in return.

...

Fenris rounded the corner into the courtyard that lay at the base of the Viscount's Way steps, then headed left, where a couple of Amell crests hung on either side of a certain woman's doorway. Shield sized versions of the purse sized one clipped to his belt. When he reached the door, he raised a fist to knock, hesitated for half a second, and then rapped his knuckles on the wood. He stared down at the official looking files and wondered why he'd hesitated.

 _Even though I've finally come to terms with my feelings and told her how sorry I am...I still get nervous every time I make eye contact with her. I'm so afraid that I'll see that same hurt that was in them three years ago...or maybe I'm more fearful that I'll see nothing..._ He was snapped out of his thoughts by Bodahn opening the door cheerily.

"Ah! Serah Fenris!" He exclaimed happily. Fenris still wasn't quite used to Hawke's man servant being so glad to see him, or referring to him as 'serah'.

"Um...yes, greetings Bodahn, I have some documents from Varric, for Hawke." He held them out sheepishly, still remembering the chilling glares he'd received from the dwarf after the night he'd left Hawke. Bodahn didn't take the papers though; he waved his hands in front of his face and shook his head saying,

"Oh no, you'd better give those straight to Mistress Hawke." He said, stepping back and gesturing for the elf to enter. "She'll be in her chambers." He finished, smiled at Fenris, and then scurried away before the elf could object. Fenris muttered 'okay' before cautiously entering. He closed the door behind him before walking through the foyer and into the estate's main guest hall. The fire, as always, was burning ferociously with Hawke's mabari, Cornelius, snoring softly and lying belly-up in front of the flames. Even though Bodahn had said otherwise, he'd expected to see Hawke at her letter desk, or coming down the stairs like she always did when someone came to visit. But alas, he wasn't that lucky. He gingerly headed up the stairs, passing Orana on his way, who nodded and curtsied in his direction. He nodded back, as he was never sure of what to do. That girl had an unsettling stare that made him uncomfortable. He'd told Hawke as much as well, and in typical Hawke style, she'd had no idea what he was on about. She'd laughed at him, and he got a chill remembering that Orana had been in a corner on the other side of the room, staring at him creepily from over Hawke's shoulder.

He stopped at Hawke's door and shook his head sharply, clearing his thoughts. He knocked a couple of times, but when that yielded nothing, he called her name. He frowned, then slowly opened the door and poked his head through.

"Sparrow?" He questioned, using her first name usually got her attention pretty quickly, but when he got a better look at the room he saw her figure curled up on her bed. She was the wrong way around though, her feet where her head should be and vice versa. Still had casual trousers and plain white shirt on, like all she could do was kick her boots off and flop down. She was well and truly asleep.

He crept in, closing the door behind him quietly. He went over to her desk and sat the papers down on her journal. He glanced over at her, and then carefully walked over to her bed. He cocked his head to one side, wondering how she could sleep in such a strange position. She was on her side, in a loose foetal position, except her left arm which, instead of being under her, was sticking out behind her and hanging over the other side of the bed. He smiled softly as he watched her, her golden hair falling out of its usually tight bun.

He wasn't sure what quite came over him, but he lifted up her right arm gently and cautiously crept into the niche created by the curve of her position, nestling his body against hers, before tenderly placing her arm back down so that it rested on his waist. He took her hand and carefully pulled it closer to his face, which in turn pulled her slightly closer to him. He closed his eyes and sighed quietly.

He wasn't quite sure of what he doing.

He liked the feeling, as if she was hugging him. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realised he quite liked hugs. No one had ever hugged him before he met Hawke, and even if they had, he didn't remember.

 _Am I a bad person for making her hug me when she's not aware of it?_ He contemplated, but didn't move.


	2. Admirer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a brief conversation between Fenris and Sparrow Hawke, in which she tries to subtly imply that she is an admirer. Act I, not long after first encounter.

"If I were you, I'd consider myself a very lucky elf. You've already met three people who have taken a liking to you, despite your broody nature."

"Really?" He said, deadpan and disbelieving.

"First of all, there's Isabela. I don't know if you've noticed, but it's taking all her willpower to not jump you every time she gets you alone. I don't think it's just physical either, I think she relates to you in some way." I tapped my chin thoughtfully, then glanced back at Fenris to find him staring at me with an eyebrow raised, thoroughly unconvinced. I snorted and threw my hands up.

"Fine, don't believe me! But it's true, there's more to her than she lets on." I then started pacing in front of the fireplace, arms folded. I knew he was just watching me go back and forth.

"Then there's Varric, he thinks you're 'cool'. Seriously, did you know he's basing his next hero off you? He was saying something about 'brooding' being the new 'charming', whatever that means. You do realise now that he knows you're not a stuck-up, arrogant, son-of-a-bitch, his words not mine, he's gonna try and provoke you every chance he gets, right?"

"Stuck-up?" He objected, "Arrogant? Son of a...?" I stopped my pacing and faced the elf, who now had an elbow leaning on the table beside him, cradling his chin in his palm, sulking at this news of how well his first impression went. He then sighed, let his hand fall to the table top, and turned to face me again. He shrugged, suddenly nonchalant, and said,

"Well, I guess my first impression could've been better."

"Could've?" I scoffed, "You refused to speak to anyone except for me for three weeks, even when we were at The Hanged Man!" I laughed as I remembered him slouching in a corner, like a stray cat cornered by ravenous beasts. If any of my companions tried to initiate conversation he'd glower at them, his lips pressed into a firm line. I wouldn't have been half surprised if he'd actually hissed.

I opened my eyes from the memory, a smile still playing on my lips, but stopped short when I realised he was just watching me again, a smirk and lowered eyebrows.

"What?" I pouted, narrowing my eyes at him. He shook his head.

"Do you realise you close your eyes and laugh when remembering something? Like you're in your own little world." He said this slowly, cocking his head to one side, watching me. He knew that made me uncomfortable. I looked away, feeling warmth on my neck threatening to rise up to my cheeks.

"Yes, well, I'm always in my own little world. It's nice here; you should come over some time." I mumbled. He chuckled, but I refused to return his gaze. After a few moments of silence I caved. He also knew I couldn't stand him watching me in silence. I felt...weird. I cleared my throat.

"Anyway," I said as I turned back to him. He was sitting lazily in his armchair, slumped a little, one leg outstretched, right elbow now propped up on the arm of the chair, curled fingers resting against his lips.

Argh. How annoying. I swear he does this on purpose. Maker knows what he hopes to achieve by it. He looks so smug. I just wanna go over there and...and...

_Pull his too-tight pants off?_

_No, no no no no no no, by the Void, brain, what's wrong with you?!_

"And? Who's the third person?" He said as he stared intensely at me, seemingly amused by my inner turmoil. . I raised my eyebrows in mock innocence, then grinned as widely as my face would allow before turning on my heel and strolling for the door. I paused momentarily in the doorway and said over my shoulder,

"The third is...a secret admirer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that was so short, my Pause series has been running for a while on FanFiction so these are all still old chapters. Hopefully I'll have the rest posted soon so I can start putting up new stuff.


	3. The Gallows Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris voices his opinion on Hawke's unaccompanied trips to Gallows.

"I wish you'd stop going to the Gallows, Hawke." I heard the words uttered from behind me in a low voice, and I stood up from my desk, glancing around the empty room until I saw the lithe figure that slowly stalked out of the shadows to greet me. I stayed by my desk with my hands on my hips as Fenris walked out of the foyer of my estate to stand in front of the fire with my mabari, facing me, but his gaze turned to look at the flames, as if he hadn't said anything.

"What?" I said, as if I hadn't heard. He sharply turned his gaze towards me, his green eyes flashing in...annoyance? Frustration? Sadness? I still found it hard to tell. I noticed Bodhan anxiously exit the room, pulling Sandal along with him. I didn't stop them.

"You heard me, Hawke." He retorted harshly, before biting back his words and continuing in a less threatening tone. "Meredith doesn't need any more reasons to take you away. The only things holding her back is the nobles and your title of Champion. Even then, do one thing she doesn't like and she'll be on you in an instant, cleaving through the nobility if she has to." His tone changing back into a growl, as it had the tendency to do when he was getting emotional. Whether he was sad, angry, even when he was happy. _Growl growl growl. Like a wolf. Or like a very scary bear._

Wait, no. Probably not a good idea to mock him when he's angry with me. I sighed and crossed my arms, joining him in front of the fire. Cornelius, my mabari, huffed and snorted from between us as his spot on the rug became threatened by our presence. He sneezed rather noisily before heaving himself up, dragging himself to the other side of the fire, and flopping back down again. I watched him relocate, but Fenris never took his eyes off me. I took a deep breath.

"I can't stop going altogether. I do jobs for the Templars, remember?" Before I could continue he interrupted.

"But do you have to go alone? Like today? You could've at least taken Varric or Isabela, the Hanged man is on the way to the docks."

"I wasn't even on a mission today, Fenris. I was simply delivering supplies for Solivitus. Nothing ground breaking." He scowled. I refused to look him in the eye. He was being unreasonable.

"It was evening. The store owners were packing up, shoppers are gone, the only people left are mages and Templars, neither of whom I trust. Which of the tranquil would protect you, should a rogue Templar decide to exact revenge?" I met his gaze and returned the sour look he was giving me.

"Don't be ridiculous! Cullen's always there, and Thrask and Emeric. Need I go on? I've helped them. Meredith knows I've been helping the Templars..."

"She might also know that you haven't always "helped" in the appropriate ways! What are they going to do when it comes down a conflict? Thrask had you help a group of...of blood mages escape, and Emeric has been reprimanded for sending guards on a wild goose chase! Neither of them are going to be of any use to you, especially if their own positions come into question." I threw my hands in irritation before starting to pace back and forth in front of the fire.

"Fine! Cullen, then. He's the Knight-Captain, and for good reason. He has no reason to believe I need locking up."

"That's right, Knight-Captain, which means he'll do what Meredith tells him." he snapped in response, turning to watch me pace, his arms now crossed across his chest. "You're confident to the point of arrogance, Hawke! You're reckless with your freedom!" I stopped and slowly turned around to face him. His words took some time to sink in. I could tell by his pained expression that he hadn't meant to say that, well, not out loud at any rate.

"You think..." I started, the weakness in my own voice startling me a little. He shook his head, like he was trying to rid himself of weakening thoughts and interrupted once again.

"Besides, it's the not the "locking up" that I'm afraid of Hawke, you'd get out. Somehow you would, because you're Hawke, Kirkwall's undefeatable Champion." He paused for a moment, glanced at me with his apple green eyes. Their depths froze me for what felt like an age, but then he returned to staring at the floor before continuing. "That's not what I'm afraid of. Meredith's seen your power; she knows that you're a threat to her position. She wouldn't be satisfied with just locking you up." As he spoke I took some tentative steps in his direction. "She'd make you tranquil, Lotus. And that's not something I can save you from. That's not something anyone can save you from." He was looking at the fire, the harshness gone from his voice, now he sounded bitter and remorseful.

"Fenris..." I whispered. He's...worried? I've been making him worried? I hadn't even considered it. I just presumed that after he left he'd...not care anymore. I don't know what I thought. Maybe I've been doing this on purpose, to provoke him. "Oh maker, I'm so sor-" I started but once again he cut me off.

"Stop." He snarled as he grabbed my right hand 's wrist, I didn't even realise I'd begun reaching for him. His eyes were dark, shadowed by his fringe hanging over them. His upper lip was sneering, revealing unusually sharp canine teeth. Instinctively I tried to take a step back, we were suddenly way too close, his grip on my wrist tight, too tight. I had upset him. I'm Hawke, he's Fenris. I know him. I know damn well what kind of person he is, that he gets angry easily, especially when it involves me. This was my fault. My vision started getting fuzzy.

_Oh Maker, please, not now. I don't cry. I just don't. No matter what happens. I. Don't. Cry._

I couldn't even see anymore, the tears were there but they refused to leave my eyes. I dared not blink for fear of them spilling over. I must've looked pathetic.

"I'm sorry-" I managed to squeak out before he yanked my hand so hard that I stumbled into him, and his free hand took a fistful of my hair, pulling my head forward and shoving my lips onto his. My immediate reaction was to close my eyes, the stubborn tears finally running down my face. It mustn't have only hurt me, because he grunted in pain, and then just as suddenly as he'd pulled me in, he drew away. His grip softened, like he had surprised himself. He let go of my hair and my wrist and instead wrapped his arms around my waist protectively, this time gently holding me like one would a child. He had his face nuzzled into my neck, and I could swear his shoulders were jerking slightly. I sighed. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Emotions like these were new to him. That's why he always sounded angry, because anger was familiar. He knew how to be angry. I wrapped my arms around his neck, placing my left hand gently on the back of his head, running my fingers through his hair.

"Shh, it's alright. I know you didn't mean to do that." I whispered softly into his ear. He took a shuddering breath and a step back, to look at me. He frowned.

"How...how can you be so forgiving Hawke? That...was completely inappropriate, you have every right to push me away..." He struggled to talk over the raging conflict was going on behind his eyes. I knew part of him wanted to run away, part of him wanted to be comforted and another part just wanted to say 'I'm sorry'. I shook my head.

"What can we do about that?" he gave me a confused look. "About the Gallows? How about this? I... promise I won't go there unless you're with me?"

"You don't have to do tha-." He started but this time I cut him off.

"Yes, I do. You've made a good point. A few...good points. And besides, if you leave without us making a decision, this will have all been for nothing. You'll continue to worry, and I'll continue...to be reckless with my freedom." We disentangled ourselves from each other and Fenris looked so forlorn that I wanted to hug him again, but I refrained.

"I didn't..." He began.

"Are you happy with that decision?" I crossed my arms, the tears gone and I was back to my usual, not-blubbering self. He cocked his head to one side, staring at me quizzically.

"I, yes. Yes, I suppose I am."

"Then we needn't speak of...this...until you're ready." As I said 'this' I'd gestured to the room around us. 'This' had become code between us meaning our "relationship" on the whole. I'd made it obvious I wasn't going to move on to anyone else, that I was going to wait for him, and he was just going to have to live with that. He gave me a lop-sided smile and a comfortable silence ensued for a few seconds, before Orana came in from the kitchen.

"Oh, I'm sorry Mistress! Should I put this to the side...?" She said, holding a tray of sliced meat and steaming vegetables. There was clearly enough for two people. I rolled my eyes. Bohdan, I thought, mentally reprimanding the absent dwarf.

"No, that's fine Orana. Right on time, in fact. Come on, Fenris."

"What? I, uh, I mean-."

"Oh, be a good guest and stay for dinner." He snorted in response.

"As you say, Hawke."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't deny that I like sap, and that I like writing sap. I also enjoy a good argument, but only if there is a resolution, even if it's only temporary.


	4. A Show in the Deep Roads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The company stops for a break during the Deep Roads expedition. Varric and Bartrand sit apart from the rest to discuss "important matters" over a game of Wicked Grace. 
> 
> (Atlanta ~ Rogue!Hawke)

"What do you think of the lackies and their respective hobbies?" Bartrand muttered to Varric as they sat a short distance away from the camp, rationing their liquor between the two of them and finalizing plans for their next bout of spelunking. Except for the fact that the plans had been forgotten for the most part and they'd moved on to Wicked Grace. Varric thumbed his cards and scoffed.

"What? Frederick likes to pick up shiny rocks and stuff them in his pocket, regardless of how worthless they actually are, Thomas does scratchings of darkspawn into the rock face, and I don't even wanna know what Percy's doin' when he disappears for random amounts of time, then comes back looking rather pleased with himself." Bartrand snorted in response,

"Not those lackies, Hawke's lackies." Varric grunted his reply,

"Pfff, Broody and Blondie? Broody likes to brood and Blondie likes to rant, usually about Templars and how evil they are. Neither of which I'm inclined to take up, if that's what you're worried about."

"Tch, I know what they were obsessing over, but after two days of being down here their interests seemed to have changed. Come on you duster, Varric! You can't say you haven't noticed. Bah, and Mother always said you were the sharp one."

Varric raised his eyes from the cards in front of him to stare at his brother, who was quite smugly perusing his own set. He quickly flicked his gaze over to where Hawke and "her lackies" were sitting around the campfire. He squinted at them for a moment, Anders and Fenris seemed to be having a stare down, a very subtle battle that took a temporary truce every time Hawke looked in their direction. He went back to examining his own hand, reordering them even though it wasn't necessary.

"They...argue more than before? I fail to see what you're getting at Bartrand. It's nothing I haven't seen before." He said, suspicious of whether Bartrand had an actual point or whether he was just trying to distract Varric from the game. Bartrand chuckled, like he knew something.

"I'm not usually one for guessing games, little brother, but I'll give you a clue." He sniggered, obviously enjoying Varric's naïveté. "Their mutual hobby requires a great deal of staring and revolves around something they want to plunder. Heh, ironic considering where we are." Varric rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. Bartrand started to grin as the realisation dawned on his brother.

"Eloquent as always, Bartrand." He muttered, but the description wasn't lost on him. He had noticed. By the Void, it was impossible not to.

"Haha! You'd think by the way they stare that the treasure we've come to find is Hawke's ass. Ehehe, they're probably wondering why we're still down here!" He was chortling away to himself, quite pleased with this revelation. Varric shook his head.

Out of all the companions Hawke had picked up in Kirkwall over the few months, they'd known Blondie the longest, and Broody the shortest. At first he'd thought it was a strange pair to pick. Then he'd remembered that Hawke wasn't stupid, she hadn't picked them for their pleasant company or dashing good looks. Anders is a healer, the only mage in the group that was able to heal everyone in the party simultaneously and even bring them back from unconsciousness, a useful talent; and Broody was a warrior of exceptional skill, which offset her rogue skills nicely. Hawke hadn't wanted to bring Aveline, for the same reasons she hadn't wanted Sunshine to come. Also, they had only known the elf for a few weeks. At first Varric saw this as a safe bet, Hawke barely knew him, therefore he wouldn't be a burden on her conscience. Varric should've known better though, seeing as how she'd flirted with the elf from the word go.

Which, needless to say, was completely unlike her. He'd noticed that Hawke was very careful about how she treated people. She could...change herself...to suit a situation, or a person. Genuine flirting was something she didn't do. She just didn't.

She was playful and teasing with Isabela, so much so that you'd think they'd grown up together.

She would be childlike and chirpy with Daisy, yet firm when needed, kind of like a mother-type figure or a sister.

She'd joke and sympathize with Anders. Blondie saw her unending patience as some sign they were destined to be together. Varric snorted at the thought. The poor boy certainly had high hopes.

She was a little closer to her real self when with Aveline, when they were together it was all business and toughness and protection.

Even though the Prince wasn't a member of their merry band yet, she was loyal and supportive with Sebastian, but there was something lacking in her performance. It had taken Varric a while to pinpoint it, but he'd some to the conclusion that the Prince's indecisiveness was rubbing Hawke the wrong way. He got the feeling that if Sebastian was completely set on reclaiming his throne, or fully convinced he should stay in the Chantry, then Hawke wouldn't have a problem. Yet, he was the Indecisive Prince. And it was annoying.

But when she'd met the Tevinter elf...that was a different scenario altogether. Varric had never seen Hawke lose composure before; he'd thought something was wrong with her for the first few minutes after the elf had made his appearance. She'd smiled way too much, a nervous tic he'd discovered she had, she'd blurted things out that she'd never normally say, and to top it all off she flirted with him, something Varric hadn't known she'd been able to do without Isabela's presence. It had been interesting to watch their interactions on that first night after accepting Anso's job; Broody's awkward cough/laugh, Hawke's sudden trouble with the common language... it was in moments like those that Varric was glad _he_ wasn't the star of the show.

When Varric himself had met her, he'd instantly noticed that she was mimicking him, or trying to at least. He'd pulled her up on it immediately. He remembered her raising an eyebrow at him, then the slow smile that had spread across her face. A smile he'd never forget. After that their mutual respect for each other seemed to heighten. Without a word they had been able to establish that he knew what she was doing, and she knew that he knew. He also loved that he finally had someone to banter with, to send winks to during a "serious" conversation or moment.

Now, that being said, Hawke wasn't a fake. She genuinely enjoyed the company of each companion, most of the time at any rate. It's just that she was sharp. Nothing passed her notice. He still remembered what she'd told him one night,

_"It's like being an actor, but enjoying all my roles. It is fun to joke with Isabela, but it's refreshing to be simple and naive with Merril. Minus the blood magic and all that of course. When with Aveline, I get things done, and it's a strong friendship, I know she has my back. I appreciate Sebastian's faith, but I do wish he'd make up his mind. I can understand where Anders is coming from, so to a certain extent I can sympathize and agree, but I also understand how Fenris must see things so I can, mostly, agree with him too. I never agree with them just to make them happy, however."_

_"Sounds like you have a tough script Hawke." He'd replied. She'd grinned._

_"I wouldn't have it any other way. Things would be boring, otherwise."_

......

"Varric! Oi, where'd you go?!" Varric jolted up from his slouched position and snapped his gaze to Bartrand, who was sitting across from him, fuming. Oops. Must've been daydreaming.

"Bah! Don't tell me I've offended you cause of what I said about Hawke!" He huffed and Varric was about to respond when they both heard steps coming in their direction.

"What exactly did you say about Hawke?" A playful voice chimed in and they both turned to face Atlanta Hawke as she sauntered over, hands behind her back.

"Pah. I was merely commenting on the entertainment your ass seems to provide for your male companions." Bartrand grumbled as he settled back on his rock, collecting the cards back up, obviously fed up with the game.

"Bartrand!" Varric hissed at his brother, the last thing the expedition needed was for its organizer and leader to be executed. But, to his surprise, Hawke laughed, somewhat nervously. Very unlike her. But, she stayed true to form, and added rather nonchalantly,

"Well, I should hope so, my behind is quite the sight to behold." She waved a hand through the air dramatically and Varric stifled a chuckle as Bartrand snorted.

"Just so long as you know you're giving them a show, Hawke." He said and she bowed elegantly while saying,

"And the show must go on, wouldn't you say, ser dwarf?"

Bartrand snorted again.

The company had finished its rest and they'd headed off again. Varric strode by Hawke's side during a more quiet part of their venture and now, thanks to Bartrand, he was ever aware of the two sets of eyes that lurked behind them. He had to resist the urge to spin around and catch them in the act.

"Do they really stare?" Hawke muttered to him and he caught himself snapping his eyes in her direction. She was looking straight ahead, alert, like she hadn't said anything. He quickly regained his senses and also returned his attention to the road ahead.

"Heh, Hawke, if there's one thing they'll stop arguing to do; it's to stare at you. Ass is the easiest body part to notice when you're the one leading, but they'll settle for anything."

"That's...kind of disturbing." She said, but he could practically hear the smile in her voice.

"Go on, admit it, you like it." He chuckled.  
"About as much as you enjoy Isabela eyeing off your chest hair, Varric." She responded playfully. He smirked as he realised he did enjoy that. They continued on their way, both grinning madly.

...

Little known to Bartrand, Varric or Hawke, Fenris himself wasn't actually watching Hawke's butt, most of the time he was actually watching her waist. He liked the shape it made. He finally understood the term "hour-glass" figure. It's like the curves her waist made were perfect for hands. He thought about putting his hands on her waist. He wondered what it would feel like. Pulling her close like dancers did at the many fancy events Danarius had been invited to. He'd seen so many that he knew the steps of several off by heart. Not because he'd had too, but because it was something else to think about. Something almost resembling "fun". He imagined having her that close to him, holding that waist he stared at for hours on end. Squeezing her. Pushing her against a wall. Pulling her down on top of him...

This is usually about the point in his thoughts where he'd shake his head roughly and suddenly become very angry with her for no reason whatsoever. He'd start thinking: _How dare she do this to me. Why does she tempt me like this? Doesn't she see how I suffer under her gaze...Wait. Now I sound like Varric. Ugh!_


	5. brain damage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke's injuries catch up with her.

Hawke had begun to forget.

_"Oh, this is beautiful! Where did you get it?"_

She asked Fenris as she held up the ruby pendant her mother had bought her upon their move into Hightown.

The streaks of grey through her hair, like a physical manifestation of her fading memories.

The back of her skull, where the Arishok had struck her, over and over and over, would ache in the Winter.

 _"I must've hit my head on something..."_ Hawke would say under her breath, as she struggled to recall exactly what she'd hit it on.

She would sit on the porch of their small cottage, on the outskirts of an unnamed forest. For hours she would gaze at the sky, the trees...not really seeing, not really there. The breeze would shift strands of hair across her face and she would appear to be on the cusp of of it all coming back. Eyes searching the invisible past, lips parted, ready to say 'I remember'. Yet as soon as the moment came, it went.

 _"Tell me about Kirkwall again."_ Hawke would say, leaning her head on his shoulder as they sat by the fire. Fenris would drape an arm around her and kiss her hair.

 _"What did you have in mind?"_ He would reply, trying his best not to think about how much the tables had turned.

 _"Tell me about when we saved the city."_ She would sometimes request and his throat would close up, his heart would come up in his mouth and he would glance away while tears burned his eyes. He would compose himself and clear his throat like Varric used to before beginning a tale that was close to his heart.

 _"Well, it was more like **you** saved the city."_ He would say and Hawke would giggle, like it was a lie he told to make her feel special.

Some days were better than others.  Sometimes, she didn't need reminding of who she had been. These days would come around and the world would seem clearer. They would talk about their friends, about Varric and Bianca, about Merrill and Isabela, Bethany and Sebastion, even Anders. They would talk about everything that they had experienced together, for neither knew how long this would last. When the memories slipped away once again it was not time to stop trying, it was merely a time to rest, and wait

Fenris had always feared that one day Hawke would ask him a question that he couldn't answer.

That one day she would look at him.

And there would be no remembrance in her eyes.

And she would say,

 _"Who are you?"_  

But she never did.

She never did. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah, this idea kind of came out of nowhere. I hope it came out alright.


End file.
